The Vision Master

by William Hill

They walked through the chain-link-fence gate of their high school, St. Mary’s. Liam and Drew parted ways, Liam having told Drew he needed to go to the library to drop off a book. Drew headed for his homeroom class to finish the homework he neglected to do the night before because his video game's avatar was too involved in a quest to be delayed any further.

  When he reached the library, Liam saw a sign on its door that read, "Library Closed for Inventory. Place all returns in drop box".

  Damn, he thought to himself. I wanted another book!

  As he turned to go to his homeroom, he saw Carol, Drew, and Scott walking quickly down the hallway towards him.

  "What's up, guys?" He said.

  With one voice they all exclaimed, "School’s cancelled for today!"

  "And Monday we're supposed to..." Drew started,

  "...bring in all our text and library books!" Scott finished.

  Just at that moment, an announcement came across the P.A. system saying the very same thing, and adding that all athletic team practices and other after-school activities were suspended until further notice. The disembodied voice continued, "All students are to immediately leave the school grounds. All teachers and staff report to the lounge". The four friends stared into each other's unbelievingly eyes.

  "I wonder what's happening?" said Carol.

  "Another 9-11?" Scott wondered. "Have we been attacked?"

  "Maybe it's a bomb threat," suggested Drew.

  "Couldn't be," said Liam. "If it was, the teachers would have to leave also".

  As they proceeded toward the main exit, Mr. Specks, their English teacher came out of the Men's room door, almost running into them.

  "Hey, Mr. Specks, what's going on?" Liam asked.

  "Can't say...well I can... but I mustn’t. Don't ask...well, obviously you have...but don’t do it again, I'm not at liberty…" he answered nervously, his head pivoting on his shoulders this way and that, as if he was looking for something or someone. It was a tendency he had whenever he talked with anyone, which, coupled with his overly large round and wire rimmed glasses, his paunchy overweight and short build, gave him the comical appearance of an old and weathered owl. Every time Liam saw Specks, he saw him as an owl and he hated that. Liam had been collecting everything “owl” since he was about seven, long before young Mr. Potter ever got Hedwig. He loved owls; they were regal and yet mystic. He had pictures and prints, and carvings and castings from such diverse materials as wood, to porcelain, to coal, and cement. He even had a cross-stitch of a Barn Owl he had sewn himself. It was his favorite kind of owl. Sometimes when he dreamed, one would appear, usually when the dream was a nightmare. The owl would look him in the eye, "hoot" and, it seemed to Liam's mind, even smile. Whenever that happened, the nightmare would end and Liam would sleep peacefully the rest of the night. He touched the silver owl pendant that his grandmother had given him when he was born, heavy around his neck. Once Liam had once asked her about it. “The Owl knows when to move and when to be still. He teaches us, that if we but watch and listen, we will know when, and how, to confront life’s issues. Make the Owl your totem, Liam. Be like the Owl!” Every time he saw Specks, Liam thought his slovenly appearance and absurd demeanor was a mockery of the stately, demure bird.

  Suddenly Specks stiffened. "Do as you are instructed and leave immediately!" Then he added, under his breath, with the trace of a smile that only they could see, "I hope to see each of you again, soon" as he turned to intercept the Principal coming towards them.

  The four stood there, trying to figure it all out, when Carol asked, "What did he mean, by 'soon'?"

  "Don't know," answered Liam, "but let's go."

  Liam's house was the first on the way home for all of them, so he invited them in so they could discuss the morning's events.

  "You guys can call your folks, tell them about school, and let them know you're here," he told them.

  Just as they entered the front door, the phone rang.

  "Hello," Liam answered.

  "Liam, its Dad."

  "How'd you know I was home?"

  "Let's just say I know."

  He wasn't overly surprised. His father seemed to know a lot about a lot of things, even stuff there was no apparent reason for him to know. Liam didn't know what his dad's job was, only that he was instructed to tell anyone who asked that his father worked for the government, and the same for his grandmother, and his father's two brothers. Whatever it was, it was the family business. The only one who didn't work — out of the house — was Liam's mom. He didn't really know what she did there now that he and his sisters were all in school, and he really didn't care enough to ask.

  "Liam, I want you to keep to the house until your mother or I get home."

  "Where's Mom?"

  "She went to fetch your sisters at school. It’s an early dismissal day.”

  "Dad…Drew, Scott, and Carol are here too."

  "Good. Tell them to stay there as well. I'll inform their parents."

  "What's going on, Dad?"

  "Need to know, guy." That was his father's stock answer to Liam whenever he asked a question his father wouldn't answer. Once, about the fourth grade, his teacher asked the class to stand up and tell what their fathers did for a living. When it was Liam’s turn, he had to admit he had no idea. That night he asked his dad, and was told, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you!" Liam staggered back, shocked, his mouth agape. His father laughed, and quickly said, "Just kidding. Just the same, don't ask. It's on a 'need to know' basis, and you don't 'need to know'”. Ever since, a "Need to know" from his father was Liam's cue to let the matter drop.

  As he hung up the phone, he told the guys what his father had told him.

  "Just what does your dad do?" Carol said.

  "Don’t know."

  "Haven't you ever asked?" Drew inquired.

  "Once, years ago, and he told me not to ask."

  “He works for the government, right? I'll bet he's a spy!" Scott exclaimed.

  "You mean like James Bond?" he laughed. "I kinda doubt it; do spies have families and work nine-to-five with weekends off?"

  "Maybe some do,” Drew ventured. “What better cover?"

  His mom came in with his sisters, sending them to their room to play. Liam went, took her aside, and asked if she knew what was going on.

  "If I was your father, what would he say?"

  "Yeah, yeah, 'Need to know', I know."

  "Well there you are. Why don't you and your friends go to your room and I'll make everyone some lunch."

  They sat in Liam's room eating the grilled cheese sandwiches and chips, and sipping the sodas, that his mother had brought them. The only sound in the room was a constant clicking from the keyboards of their cell phones and Liam's computer as they sent and answered text messages and emails from their friends, or made comments on Facebook. It seemed as if everyone they knew wanted to know what was going on and were asking if anyone knew. Nobody knew.

  "Geez, I'm glad I have unlimited text messaging on my phone plan," Carol said to no one in particular, "or today would cost me a month's allowance!"

  After a couple of frenzied hours, the messaging died down. There wasn't anything to say to each other, either, so Liam started reading one of his books. Carol turned on the TV to the twenty-four hour news channel in the hope of a news break, or something, to explain the day, and then busied herself straightening up Liam's bookshelves, organizing his modest collection by subject. Liam thought to himself, Bet she'll be a librarian someday. Scott was looking at the PGA mobile web site on his phone, and Drew took over the laptop to play his warfare game.

  They all stopped and looked up as they heard the front door close, and then Liam's folks talking in the kitchen. He motioned them to stay put and left to talk to his father. As he approached the kitchen door, he could hear his mother and father whispering and, as Liam entered, they suddenly stopped.

  "Umm, Liam, we need to talk, but first y
our friends need to go home," his dad told him, "then come back here."

  He returned to his room, told the guys what his father said and, promising to tell them anything he learned (if he was able to and allowed), saw them out.

  Walking back to the kitchen, he was just in time to hear his mother say, "Do you really think he should be told?"

  His father answered, "He's old enough now, and if we don't it'll drive him crazy if it happens again, which you know will."

  Chapter Five: Different Folk

  “All people dream, but not equally. [Some] people [dream] and make it possible.”